


Zeke Presanti’s Guide to Getting the Girl (Or Guy)

by tiigi



Category: Big Time Adolescence (2020)
Genre: Age Difference, Canon Divergence, Humour, M/M, Pining, Possessive Behaviour, Recreational Drug Use, and he’s an idiot, zeke loves mo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:35:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/pseuds/tiigi
Summary: Step One: Give Him A Really Dumb Tattoo
Relationships: Monroe "Mo" Harris/Zeke Presanti
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	Zeke Presanti’s Guide to Getting the Girl (Or Guy)

**Author's Note:**

> This is such a silly idea but it was fun to write :D

Step One: Give Him A Really Dumb Tattoo 

It’s Nick’s idea really, the whole tattoo thing, and Zeke just likes going along with it. He stopped counting his tattoos a long time ago and now, if he finds one he doesn’t remember getting, it’s usually in the shower. 

Zeke knows Mo doesn’t have any, though, and that’s what makes it so fun. Sure, he’s not technically old enough to get them, but he’s not old enough to drink yet either and Zeke doesn’t have any moral quandary about letting that happen under his roof. So, when Mo bursts in telling them all about how he kissed his dumb high school girlfriend that Zeke’s never said more than five words to, it seems like a perfect idea.

She may have had Mo’s tongue in her mouth, but Mo will have Zeke’s ink under his skin for the rest of his life, and that’s unbeatable. That’s the way it’s _supposed_ to be: Zeke and Mo against the world, and sometimes Nick too if he’s tagging along.

“I really think this is a bad idea,” Mo says from where he’s sitting on the couch, legs spread, head resting back on the cushion. Maybe it is a bad idea because Mo’s drunk and so is Zeke and so is everyone else, but Zeke is a steady hand even when he’s wasted so he’s ninety nine percent sure it’ll be okay.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zeke grins and holds out his hand for the tattoo fun. “Suck it up and take your shirt off.”

“Uh, what?” Mo blinks. His head rolls on his shoulders to look at Zeke in drunken confusion. Nick shakes his head and takes another drink, but when Zeke looks at him he’s smiling.

“You sure this is a good idea, man?” He asks, and Zeke might be too drunk to fully get the message but it’s clear he’s not just talking about the tattoo. Zeke remembers how he overhead Mo and Nick earlier, what Nick had said, what _Mo_ had said.

_You’re acting real silly right now. She’s sixteen. Shame on you._

“Whatever, dude, give me a hand with this.” Zeke replies, and swallows any guilt he might have been feeling with another shot. 

Mo holds his arms up above his head but that’s all the help he gives; Zeke has to do the rest. He straddles one of Mo’s legs where they’re spread apart and kneels up, hooking his fingers under the hem of Mo’s t-shirt and lifting it up slowly. His fingers brush against Mo’s stomach and his skin is so soft, he’s a blank canvas and Zeke gets to be the first person to ever leave a mark on him. He feels incredibly lucky, because he knows he doesn’t deserve that privilege.

“You ready?” Zeke asks, his voice pitched low and thick with want. Mo frowns at him, looks from Zeke’s eyes to the tattoo gun in his hand down to his own chest, empty and inviting. Zeke smooths a hand over the spot he’s about to work on, traces a pattern over Mo’s skin with his fingertips, feels Mo’s heartbeat race under his palm. Mo shivers. Zeke wants to believe it’s because of him.

“Yeah,” Mo murmurs in response. His eyes slip closed. Zeke looks around to see that Nick has slipped away somewhere and now it’s just Mo, half naked, and Zeke, irrationally nervous, alone in a room together.

“Okay then,” Zeke positions the needle over the correct spot and inhales deeply. “Come on then, tongue daddy.”

Zeke goes slow. This is Mo’s first tattoo and he really doesn’t want to fuck it up for the kid, even if he’s inking something as ridiculous as ‘tongue daddy’ onto Mo’s body. He’d like the opportunity to do this again someday - hopefully somewhere more… risqué - and there’s no way Mo will let him do that if this looks like a child’s scribble.

After he’s finished, Zeke wipes it clean with a tissue and covers it with a dressing pad. He’ll have to give Mo a list of what to do and what not to do so that it doesn’t get gross and infected, but Mo’s a smart kid. He won’t screw this up.

Mo is also crying. Not really bad, because he’s a dumb teenage boy and dumb teenage boys think they’re not allowed to cry - but his eyes are glassy with tears. Zeke’s heart clenches.

“Oh, hey,” Zeke tosses the tattoo gun to the other end of the couch, something Nick will chew him out about later. “Don’t cry. We don’t cry here, remember?” 

Mo shakes his head, pauses, then nods. The movement has a tear spilling down his cheek and he hurries to brush it away like he’s hoping Zeke didn’t notice.

“Does it really say tongue daddy?” He asks, laughing wetly. Zeke snorts and pats his chest - the other side, so he doesn’t hurt Mo.

“It sure does,” Zeke replies. “C’mon, lets get you home.”

Mo sleeps in Zeke’s car with his forehead pressed to the window and his breath fogging up the glass. After Zeke pulls into Mo’s family’s driveway he sits in the driver’s seat and just watches him for a while, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the flutter of his eyelids. Something warm and possessive unfurls in Zeke’s chest.

Then he sees the twitch of the curtain in Mo’s house and Reuben’s face in the window, screwed up in anger. The moment is very much ruined. 

He shakes Mo awake and reminds him to take care of the tattoo, to keep it hidden from his parents. Mo nods and agrees sleepily, wincing slightly as he runs his hand over the spot on his chest. Zeke bats it away and shakes his head fondly.

“Don’t fuck it up,” he warns, and he means _take care of it, tell me you want it there, show me it means something._

Mo gets out of the car. Zeke waits a moment, and then drives away.

Step Two: Get Him Stoned When He Asked You Not To 

Mo isn’t having fun, that much is obvious. Zeke should have just told Ricky that he was busy or that they should meet up later, and even after he let him into the car, he should have told him not to smoke. Seeing the disappointment in Mo’s eyes stung like a bitch.

And now he’s got Mo in his car, stoned out of his mind, and it strikes him as sort of worrying that one or both of them usually gets wasted when they’re together. Zeke knows that, even if he didn’t have the stupid family dinner ahead of him, Mo still wouldn’t be happy with him. He’d _seen_ Mo’s face - he _should’ve_ stopped.

Whatever. There are a million things he should have done but didn’t, and he can’t spend an eternity guilty over every individual one.

“Alright, Momo,” he reaches over and unbuckles Mo’s seatbelt. Mo is like a puppet with his strings cut; when Zeke cups the hinge of Mo’s jaw between his thumb and his forefinger, Mo lets him. He lets himself be manhandled, lets Zeke tug the hood down from over his head and pat down his hair until it’s neat and presentable.

“You’re gonna go in there and tell them you have to go shower, okay?” Mo lets out a low, frustrated groan. Zeke has to stop himself from laughing. “Hey, you listening to me? Mo, c’mon, listen or your parents will fuckin’ murder you. And me. Just go in there, have a shower, drink some water and go to bed as soon as you can. Alright?”

“Uh huh,” Mo says, and Zeke just knows that Mo hasn’t taken in anything he just said. Zeke will have to face Reuben’s wrath next time he sees him undoubtedly, but at least Mo is cute when he’s stoned.

“You’re cute when you’re stoned.” Zeke whispers, and the words have escaped him before he can even think twice about it. Maybe Zeke is higher than he first thought.

That just seems to set Mo off giggling though, and he looks even cuter when he does that so Zeke starts laughing as well and nothing is funny but everything is hilarious. When Mo finally gets out of the car and stumbles towards his door, Zeke sits and watches him for a few moments, still laughing.

Nothing’s funny, but he knows Mo’s clothes will reek of weed until he next washes them, and he kind of likes that.

  
Step Three: Ruin His Chances With Literally Anyone Else

Zeke never meant to turn Mo into some sort of teenage drug dealer. Bringing alcohol to some senior parties is a very different thing than selling molly to kids and despite what everybody seems to think, Zeke isn’t actually that bad of a person. 

Mo wanted to be cool, and Zeke knows all about how to be cool in high school. It’s why their friendship works so well: Mo looks up to Zeke and Zeke has a soft spot for Mo and it all just _works._ It always has done, for as long as it’s been the two of them against the world.

So when Mo wants to bring this new person, this _Sophie_ girl, into their lives… can Zeke really be blamed for trying to sabotage it a little bit?

“You should ignore her now,” he tells Mo, and he means it. Not necessarily for the reasons that Mo thinks he means it - and Zeke does feel bad about it, ruining Mo’s chances with a girl he actually likes, but he only needed to take one look at her to know that he and Mo would be a far superior couple.

“What? Are you sure?” Mo asks, and it would be a whole lot harder for Zeke to live with himself if Mo was asking more specific questions. As it is, Zeke is very sure that Mo should not talk to Sophie anymore, and he certainly shouldn’t kiss her.

He feels sick with guilt, but not enough to take it back.

“Yeah, dude,” he nods eagerly. “Ignore her. Play hard to get - she’ll chase after you.”

“But…” Mo frowns, drums his fingers on the tabletop and watches Zeke flit around the kitchen. “We kissed.”

“Because of me,” Zeke says quickly - too quickly. He’s made it weird now, but there’s that same possessive feeling unfurling in his chest that won’t let him take it back. They _did_ kiss because of Zeke, and he can’t figure out whether he should be kicking himself for it or jerking off to it, and then he feels disgusting and it starts all over again, an inescapable cycle.

“I don’t know if it was all…” Mo starts to say. Zeke falls into the chair opposite him and slides a drink across the table to him.

“Yeah,” Zeke nods, grins, takes a drink himself. “It was ‘cause of me. You’d never even have met her if it weren’t for me.” 

Mo rolls his eyes but he’s smiling fondly. He’s probably remembering making out with his high school girlfriend, Zeke thinks vindictively, and realises it’s crazy to be jealous of a sixteen year old he’s barely even met. 

“And what if it doesn’t work?” Mo asks, although now it seems more like he’s teasing Zeke than genuinely asking. Zeke downs the rest of his drink and raises his eyebrows.

“It always works! It’s worked with every girl I’ve ever slept with.” Zeke says, and now he’s heading into full on lie territory but Mo just shakes his head and leans back in his chair.

“Alright,” he says, shrugging. “So I ignore her, fine.”

Satisfaction settles over Zeke like a blanket, heavy and warm. He should feel like a terrible person, but he’s more glad than anything else that Mo won’t be leaving him for ‘someone his own age’ like everyone is always telling him he should.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Zeke says, and promises himself that he’ll feel bad about it later. 

  
Step Four: Piss Off His Parents Until They Punch You In The Face

Zeke calls Mo as soon as he leaves the house. Reuben’s punch, though unexpected, isn’t the worst hit he’s ever taken, and he imagines how funny it’ll be for Mo to be on a call with Zeke straight after what Reuben just did. Zeke’s not a vindictive person, but Reuben has never wanted him hanging around with Mo and it’s easy to dislike him for it.

So he calls Mo as he’s sprawled on the ground, back against the wall, his nose throbbing, and he waits for Mo to pick up and bitch at Zeke about his dad and getting expelled and Sophie dumping him. 

Except… Mo doesn’t pick up. Zeke’s call goes to voicemail, and when he tries again, just in case Mo missed it the first time around, the same thing happens. Maybe Mo is just too nervous to talk to Zeke in front of his father. He’ll probably be grounded with locks on his windows this time, and that sucks because it means they won’t be able to see each other for a while, but he’s not feeling too scared about it.

He sends Mo a text instead, just to say _‘that was fucking crazy!! call me when you get home your dad has finally lost his fucking MIND!’_

Mo doesn’t reply. Zeke gives it ten minutes just to be sure, checks his phone and sees that Mo has left his message on read.

The first seed of panic sets up home in Zeke’s stomach. This isn’t going to be a big thing, he’s sure. Mo will just need to take a few weeks to get over everything that happened and then everything will be back to normal. Kids are supposed to fuck up and get expelled and do shit like this all the time - it’s what Zeke misses most about being a kid.

So he’ll just wait, he’ll grab something from the freezer and press it against his face and he’ll wait for the swelling to go down and everything to blow over. Mo will get over it, he tells himself.

It’ll just take a little time.

Step Five: Accept That You Have No Plan And Just Tell Him How You Feel, Idiot 

It takes a lot of time. Zeke calls a lot, and he sends an embarrassing number of messages and after a while Mo stops reading them. Zeke rarely gets ghosted, and now he’s being ghosted by the person he’s literally fucking in love with and he hates how much of that is his own damn fault.

Nick isn’t much help. He doesn’t know the whole story because Zeke is too ashamed to fully explain it, to tell people how badly he fucked up his best friend’s life, but he knows enough to figure out why Zeke is moping. 

“Why don’t you just get wasted and we’ll go to a party?” Nick suggests, tired of sitting around on Zeke’s couch doing nothing all evening. The house feels woefully empty now that Mo isn’t here; it had sucked when Holly left, and when the rest of his friends had started ditching the party, but Mo’s absence leaves a gaping hole that Zeke can’t seem to fill. 

“Fuck off,” Zeke mumbles. He rubs the heels of his palms into his eyes and groans. He hasn’t had a drink since he last saw Mo but he’s been smoking a lot of weed so he feels kind of out of it.

“Fine then,” Nick rolls his eyes. “Don’t go to a party. Fuckin’ go to his house or something, tell him you’re _sorry.”_

“Are you not listening? His dad told me to stay away. He fuckin’ punched me in the face!”

“Jesus, _‘his dad told you.’”_ Nick mocks. “How fucking old are you? This isn’t your highschool girlfriend, man, this is Mo.”

For once, he’s actually making sense.

“I don’t know,” Zeke says. “He probably doesn’t even wanna see me. I got him expelled.”

“He’s like, sixteen. Getting expelled is some cool shit - he’ll probably pull ‘cause of you.” And just like that, he goes and ruins it.

He’s got a point though, and Zeke is still thinking about it hours later, long after Nick is gone. Maybe Mo would appreciate an apology? Zeke hasn’t apologised for anything since he was a teenager himself so he’ll be a little rusty, but if it means Mo will speak to him again then it’s worth it.

Besides, after everything Zeke put him through, Mo _deserves_ a fucking apology.

He does feel a little creepy, showing up when he knows the rest of Mo’s family is out. He can’t remember the last time he ever actually stood at this door and knocked - probably when he was still dating Kate, Jesus - but he gets the feeling that Mo won’t come outside if Zeke is just aggressively beeping his horn, so he has to swallow his pride and do it.

When Mo opens the door and first sees Zeke, he seems a little shell shocked. They haven’t spoken or seen each other in a couple of months now and Zeke doesn’t fully realise how much he’s missed Mo until he’s standing in front of him, taking in the angles of his face and the curve of his lips again. He’s sure he’s got a dumb fucking grin on his face. Mo doesn’t look anywhere near as happy to see Zeke.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, monotone. This is what Zeke had been afraid of. Mo doesn’t really hold grudges - not for very long anyway - but he’s terrified that they’ll never get back the easy, casual closeness that they’d cultivated over years of being around each other.

“Nothing. I mean, uh, not much. Hi?” Smooth. Zeke is doing a really good job so far.

“Okay…” Mo draws the word out, confused. Zeke swallows.

“So, uh, you wanna hang out or something?” Zeke is doing a spectacularly terrible job of apologising and begging for forgiveness.

“What?” 

“Shit, that’s not what I– fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what happened. Everything… y’know. All that shit.” He says it in a rush, desperate to get the words out. Zeke doesn’t remember the last time he was embarrassed but he feels embarrassed now, watching Mo watch him, trying to figure him out. 

“What are you doing here, Zeke?” Mo asks, and he sounds so tired and so _done_ that Zeke’s breath catches in his throat. He suddenly feels afraid that this isn’t going to work, that Mo won’t want to hear him out, that he’ll have finally fucked up the one thing in his life that was worth living for.

“I’m here to say sorry,” Zeke says, in a small, pathetic voice. “I’m sorry. I was a fucking idiot, but I don’t want to lose you.”

Something softens in Mo’s face then - he looks less unforgiving and more like the familiar Mo that Zeke knows and loves. It’s relieving, and he has to fight down the urge to go in for a bro hug and act like everything is back to normal already.

“You’re still an asshole,” Mo says, but his lips are curling up into a smile and he’s not looking at Zeke like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Don’t think you’re coming in.”

“Fair enough,” Zeke hesitates before he turns away. He’s half hoping that Mo will change his mind and invite him inside, invite him upstairs, into his bedroom…

But of course that doesn’t happen. Zeke is just being horny and dumb, and he’s halfway to his car before Mo actually says anything else.

“Zeke!” It’s possible that Zeke makes an absolute fool of himself, spinning around so quickly and eagerly that his heel slips and he almost faceplants the sidewalk. Mo scoffs in amusement.

“I’m playing baseball tomorrow, for my new school.” This is news to Zeke - he thought Mo hated baseball. Turns out there’s a lot he needs to find out about him yet. “You should come?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mo’s smile is soft, fond, hopeful. Zeke is grinning in response before he even has time to consider it. Obviously he’s going, but he’ll have to dodge around Reuben and the rest of Mo’s family.

Maybe it’ll make for an interesting afternoon.

“I’ll text you the address,” Mo says.

“I’ll be there,” Zeke promises.

  
Step Six: If All Else Fails, Become A Cheerleader

After the game, Zeke meets Mo by the bleachers. They lost the match but at least Mo managed to hit a few balls, and that’s a few more than he ever hit when he was hanging out with Zeke and Nick. 

“You did good,” Zeke says, and hopes his praise is worth something.

“We lost,” Mo deadpans.

“Yeah, but you didn’t lose as badly as you used to. So, y’know, good.”

Mo rolls his eyes and laughs with his nose scrunched up. He’s cuter than he has any right to be and Zeke wants to kiss him now more than ever.

“You know,” Zeke continues, torn between wanting to make Mo laugh again and falling back into his old habits. “I lost my virginity under the bleachers.”

“You did not,” is Mo’s immediate, instinctive response. “That’s such a lie.”

“I did! Not these ones, obviously.” 

Mo hesitates, narrows his eyes. “I hope you’re not talking about my sister.”

Zeke makes a big show of shrugging and keeping his mouth shut. It’s worth it when Mo cracks a reluctant smile and turns away to hide it, colour creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

“You were really good out there,” Zeke says again, softer this time, more genuine. 

“Thanks,” Mo replies, and even he sounds quieter now. “I’ve been practising with my dad.”

“Good– that’s good. I’m glad you two are getting on.” Zeke’s last memory of Reuben is far from good, but he genuinely is pleased that Mo isn’t having trouble with his dad like he used to when he and Zeke were friends.

Were _friendlier,_ he corrects himself, because hope is not yet lost.

“He’s really pissed at you, y’know.” Mo says, still not looking at him.

“I know,” Zeke confirms.

“I am too,”

“You should be.” It’s true. Mo has every right in the world to tell Zeke to fuck off and never speak to him again. He just… really hoped he doesn’t.

“What are you doing right now?” Mo spins around suddenly. There’s a confused furrow between his eyebrows that Zeke wants to smooth away with his thumb. 

Zeke looks between the bleachers and Mo, baffled, completely unsure what to say. 

“Um,” he hesitates. “What?”

“Seriously, what are you doing here?” Mo takes a few steps closer. Most people have already left and Mo’s parents are probably getting food at the diner across the street, so they have pretty much the whole field to themselves. Mo is so close that Zeke can feel how warm he is, can feel Mo’s breath on his cheek. He could reach out and wrap an arm around Mo’s waist and tug him closer, cup his cheek and kiss his jaw and tell him he loves him.

But he can’t. That’s just… not him, is it?

“I’m talking to you,” Zeke says, even though pointing out the obvious makes him seem dumber than usual. “I miss hanging out with you, dude.” 

“That’s it?” Mo arms are flailing at his sides. He’s getting stressed. “You just miss hanging out with me? That’s all?”

Zeke’s heart sinks to his stomach. What is Mo doing here? What is he trying to get Zeke to admit to? And worse still, why is Zeke considering actually telling him?

“What do you want me to say, man?”

“The truth,” Mo answers immediately. That’s the answer Zeke had been dreading. 

“I miss _you,_ you little shit.” Zeke isn’t expecting it when Mo reaches out to take his hand. He holds it between his own and his hands are so soft and they fit so well with Zeke’s that Zeke could cry.

“I miss you too,” Mo whispers, and then he’s leaning forward carefully, pressing his lips against Zeke’s. It’s slow and soft, sweeter than anything Zeke has ever done before. He curls one hand around the back of Mo’s neck to tug him closer and the other on Mo’s waist, holding him tight as they break apart.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much, you idiot.” Mo whispers. His eyes are closed and his forehead is pressed against Zeke’s shoulder as he catches his breath. Zeke licks his lips and tastes Mo’s tongue there.

“I can promise you,” Zeke says, and it’s been said to him a thousand times, he’s said it a thousand times, and he’s never meant it as strongly as he means it now. “I’m not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is just meant to be a joke, obviously none of these things lead to happy healthy relationships!
> 
> Except maybe the last two... :D


End file.
